Fields of Innocence
by valeriawyverstone
Summary: A young woman reflects on her past, inside Azkaban.


Author's note:This was originally published under my old pen name, Ireth Oronar, but seeing as I haven't accessed that account in several ages, it's a bit... dead. Hence, the republishing.

Disclaimer:Once again, JK Rowling is the supreme and total ruler of all things Harry Potter (except fanworks), and I am a poor vagabond that writes because I am an artist and must express myself through song and words. I write because I must and the ideas for fanfictions torture my mind almost all day and they will only escape my mind if I put them down on paper. Either that, or my arms. My, that sounded eloquent.

Fields of Innocence

She looked out the window. Rather, the windows. Her windows. The ones she had scratched on the wall with her fingernails, one for each month she had been here. Back when she was sane. Everything she had had been taken from her. And then some. They took her mind.

_I still remember the world_

_from the eyes of a child_

She had few good memories to start with. And they sucked those out of her mind. The last ones she had were the ones she didn't want to dwell on. The ones of her childhood.

_Slowly those feelings_

_were clouded by_

_what I know now_

As hard as she tried to push them out of her mind, they came back. Not as dreams. As nightmares. They were a part of her life she did not want to return to. That's why they couldn't take them from her - they weren't good memories.

_Where has my heart gone?_

_an uneven trade for the real world_

_A little girl, lost in a maze of hedges. Her eyes looked panicked and tears started welling up in her eyes. She shouldn't have let the party in the first place, but there was no one she wanted to play with. Fear ran through her six-year-old body. Suddenly, a five-year-old boy appeared around the corner of the maze. He looked at her with concerned blue eyes. He whispered as he wrapped his little arms around her. "It's okay, I'm here." He took her hand, and led her out of the maze. "I know," she whispered back._

_Oh, I_

_I want to go back to believing in everything_

_and knowing_

_nothing at all_

_She was in Hogsmeade, shopping for a ball gown because a sixth year had invited her to the Yule Ball. Her thirteen-year-old fingers were almost numb from looking through dresses. She was excited at the prospect of going to the ball. She didn't mind him, he was handsome enough. And besides, he was a pureblood. Something caught her eye. A long black dress with a corset-like top and gloves of black lace. It didn't matter what the price was - her father would pay for anything for his oldest daughter._

_I still remember the sun_

_Always warm on my back_

_A nineteen-year-old crawled through her window. She pulled him upright. "You shouldn't have come," she said, brushing his long dark hair out of his eyes. Her house was protected so that no one could apparate in. "I know," he whispered. "But it's worth it. Always." She stepped inside the warm circle of his embrace. She closed her eyes and for one of the first times in her life, she felt truly loved._

_Somehow_

_it seems colder_

_now_

_She stared at her own reflection in the mirror. The white dress, although beautiful, looked quite out of place on her. After all, she seldom wore bright colors. Her black hair and eyes stood out in contrast against her pale skin. She sighed. She loved her fiance, but she wasn't so sure about marrying so early. After all, she was only eighteen. But the moment she saw him standing there, dressed in an all-black robe, her doubts were dashed. They could not tear their eyes from each other. A ring slipped on her finger, another on his, vows spoken, and it was over. She was his wife and he was her husband. And she had felt incredible happiness._

_Where has my heart gone?_

_Trapped in the eyes_

_of a stranger._

_After all the nights of passion they had shared, she was_finally_with a child. A little boy, the Medi-Witch had said. He was overjoyed that he would have an heir, but secretly, she was happy to have a baby of her own. She had envied her sister's blond girl, but at the same time, she felt scared. Her sister's daughter had died within a month of her birth. But surely that wouldn't happen to her son! How wrong she had been. How terribly horribly wrong, for when the child was born, there was a tragedy soon after._

_Oh, I_

_I want to go back to_

_believing in everything_

_She held her dead son in her arms. Her heart nearly broke as she placed him in the tiny coffin. She fell into her husband's arms, unable to watch them lower her week-old child into the ground. She felt his tears splash against her forehead._

_Where has my heart gone?_

Was that what landed her here? Somehow her life, which had started out so well, so innocent, so happy, turned into disaster. She had never planned it out this way. But this was her life now. And she would follow it through to the end, because it was the only thing that mattered now.

_An uneven trade_

_for the real world_

She could not remember the last time she had seen him. Maybe a day ago, or maybe a year ago. It didn't matter anymore. Time meant nothing anymore. There was a time when it mattered - when she was young.

_Oh, I_

_I want to go_

_back to_

A jingle of keys in a lock. She must be imagining it. "Bellatrix!" She heard a triumphant voice call out. The hinges of her cell whined in protest. She turned her head. She could not believe what she saw. A man, easily six feet tall, thin with matted black hair and sallow cheeks. Different as he looked, she knew it was him. With the little strength he had left, he tried to pick her up, but to no avail. He crawled next to her and slid his arms around her practically nonexistent waist. "Bella," he whispered into her ear, "How long has it been?" She traced the lines of dried blood against his forehead, shoulders, and arms. She knew where they came from. After all, didn't she have her own to prove it? These marks of the insanity were imprinted in her fingernails. "Rodolphus," she cooed in his ear, "Why are you here?" His dark eyes were serious. "We must go. He calls us." He pulled her to her feet. Her heart ached for their love that could never be as it was before.

_Oh, I_

_I want to go back to_

_believing everything_

_and knowing nothing at all_

"Bella?" he turned to her, "Maybe when... You know, whenever we can..." She slid her hand into his as answer. "Bellatrix! Rodophus!" "Duty calls..." She grimaced weakly. They stepped out of her cell and out of the life she had had there. And they stepped into a possibility of maybe another, better, more forgiving life.


End file.
